Page 50 of Omega's Reign

“I agree with Jordy. I think it’s possible that they’ll take advantage of the situation and do something to Holly after she tells the Pack Regimes. They can make it look like we ran away or some shit. I don’t know. It’s hard to predict, considering that Wilder and his brothers would immediately know something was up. We just need to break out of here and start throwing hands. All we need is one weapon. One can turn to many more. You know this, Becks.” Wesley rolls his shoulders, pulling against the ropes around his wrists. He thunks his head against the wall and peers at the ceiling. “I’m not afraid of getting hurt. They won’t kill us until they get their way with Holly. We can’t just sit here and act like fucking victims.”

I pull harder on the bonds, stretching my arms until they ache. The ropes finally give way and loosen, allowing me to pull my hands free. I swivel and pull out my arm, wiggling it in front of my packmates. “We aren’t fucking victims. And I don’t care if they come running in here. I’m not afraid of them. I’m more afraid of what could happen to Holly.”

I might not care, but I’m not stupid either. I’ll do what I can before they realize what is happening on the camera.

“Hell yeah, Isaiah. Hurry up. Do Beckett next.” Jordan squirms, trying to maneuver his own hands free. I’m sure with enough time we all could, but time is limited. I don’t know how many hours have passed since we were brought here, but I know Holly would demand that the Pack Regimes meet quickly instead of tomorrow.

I scooch closer until Beckett leans against me completely, and I slide my arm around his back, finding the end of the rope. He shifts more, and I say fuck it and use both hands, quickly loosening the poorly done binds, freeing him.

Glancing at the camera, I watch it for a moment, quietly listening as the voices outside the door fade.

Something is happening. I wonder if the dickwads have been called away to plot our demise.

Because obviously they had to see us getting out of our restraints.

Right?

I test my theory and flip off the camera, scowling at whoever watches us from the other side.

“Hello?” a soft voice whispers, static coming through the air. I realize that it must be a two-way sound system, because the voice comes from the camera.

The four of us freeze in place, staring at the blinking red light.

“Come on. Hurry,” Jordan says getting to his knees.

I rush him while Beckett takes care of Wesley, and we quickly free ourselves completely. I stretch my arms over my head and roll my shoulders, my body aching from staying in the same position for what felt like eternity.

I head toward the door and touch the handle. Pressing my ear to the wood, I listen for the voices that have been nonstop since we’ve arrived. Again, I hear nothing.

“Can you hear me?” a voice says from the camera again.

Beckett strolls toward the camera and crosses his arms. “Who is this?”

“Thank God, you can hear me,” the guy says without responding to Beckett’s question. “I managed to freeze the frame. The others have gone to grab some food. You have five minutes to get out of the apartment. Head right and you’ll find the rest of your team two doors down. Holly arranged for someone to meet you down the block. This is all I can do to help you. Hurry now.”

The camera stops blinking, and I look toward my packmates.

“Do you think this is a trap?” Wesley asks, bouncing on his feet like he can’t stay still.

Jordan pushes me out of the way and grabs the door handle, swinging it open. “I’m not contemplating bullshit. Whoever was on the other end mentioned Holly, and I trust our girl has shit handled. Let’s go.”

The bastard is right. I have faith in our omega and queen. The perfect ruler of our territory and pack.

Beckett follows behind Jordan, and I nudge Wesley to shadow him as I take the back. It’s always been my job to watch their backs, and I take the job seriously.

It’s how this has always been for us.

“If you see any weapons—”

“Hey!” a masculine voice yells, coming from a different bedroom.

I duck and charge, not hesitating as I shove a guy into the wall, knocking him down. He doesn’t even get the chance to react as I pummel him in the face, punching him again and again until blood coats my fingers. He would do the same if he had the chance. I know it. I’ve fought guys like him before.

Beckett touches my shoulder. “He’s down. Grab his gun. We’re running out of time.”

Shaking my head, I pull myself together and do as Beckett commands, fighting the guy’s gun out of his holster. I pat down his body and find a knife, and I hand it to Beckett.

At least two of us are armed. It gives us a real fighting chance.

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